


The Making of a Champion

by OpheliaGlorfindal



Series: In The Eye of The Hurricane [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon Typical Violence, Dragon Age II - Act 2, Dragon Age II Quest - Demands of the Qun, Dragon Age II Spoilers, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Feels, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Loyalty, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences, Pining, Post-Dragon Age II Quest - Demands of the Qun, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 09:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21594964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpheliaGlorfindal/pseuds/OpheliaGlorfindal
Summary: “You have no honour, Baslit-an,” he said, between ragged breaths as he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.Hawke smirked. Trying to ignore the fatigue that was starting to bury itself into her muscles.“I’m sorry to disappoint,” she replied, flinging another fireball at him, “You should’ve sat down and had a drink with me at the Hanged Man instead.”As Kirkwall burns, Aurelie Hawke goes toe-to-toe with the Arishok and pays dearly for the life of a friend.
Relationships: Aveline & Female Hawke, Bethany Hawke & Female Hawke, Carver Hawke & Female Hawke, Fenris & Female Hawke, Fenris/Female Hawke, Isabela & Female Hawke, Varric & Female Hawke - Relationship
Series: In The Eye of The Hurricane [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575235
Kudos: 35





	1. The Price of Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> This is the rewritten version of a previous fic called Cataclysm. Initially, I took it down because I had better ideas for it...so this is the result.
> 
> Also spoilers for the end of Act 2.

_Fucking Isabela_, Hawke thought bitterly as she stared down the Arishok, raising her chin slightly,_ why couldn’t she have just told me that she had stolen their most sacred text in the first place? Maybe, we could have done something about it sooner._

Oh, well, it was too late now. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped her staff, readying herself to an attack. She cast a quick glance around the room, the nobles of Kirkwall were all watching her with fear in their eyes; Isabella was pulling on her hair — an unusual display of anxiety for the pirate. Her eyes flicked over to Varric who gave her a grin, already writing the fight that was about to take place in his head. Aveline took a step forward, but Fenris threw out his arm to stop her and gave her a warning look. She bit her lip and stood still. 

_Fuck, that sword looks nasty._

The Arishok let out a low growl as he charged towards her, his sword raised. The anger in his eyes burning like the city. Hawke dodge his attack and sent a fireball at him, before running and hiding behind a pillar as he attempted to charge her down again. She peaked out from her hiding place and sent another fireball his way. He dodged it and ran towards her, weapon glinting in the light of the huge candelabra that adorned the ceiling of the throne room.

_Maker’s bloody balls._

Hawke dodged out of the way, but not before she felt his blade cut her side. She clutched it, uttering a quick healing spell, before sending a great force of energy towards him. It knocked the hulking Qunari of his feet, causing him to smack face first into the ground. She hit him with another fireball as he was getting back onto his feet. He yelled as the smell of burning flesh filled the room.

“You have no honor, Baslit-an,” he said, between ragged breaths as he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

Hawke smirked. Trying to ignore the fatigue that was starting to bury itself into her muscles.

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” she replied, flinging another fireball at him, “You should’ve sat down and had a drink with me at the Hanged Man instead.”

The Qunari scowled at her jest as he drank a health potion and threw the empty bottle at the wall. He let out another guttural growl as he hurtled towards her, his sword raised in the air. She watched him blithely for a few seconds, every muscle in her body aching as she tried to step out of his way.

But she was too late. She felt a sharp shock of pain as the Arishok shoved her into a pillar. Her head smacked against the marble, sending white hot sparks across her eyelids. She dropped her staff as he grabbed her throat,letting it clatter to the ground. Her hands gripped his wrist, trying in vain to wrench his hand away as he lifted her clean off her feet. 

_Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh Maker’s shitty ever fucking balls._

Aurelie kicked her legs in the air in a futile attempt at trying to free herself from his grasp. His fingers were clenched around her throat, squeezing the air out of her lungs. No, it couldn’t end like this. She needed to think, she needed to do something. Anything that would stop him from killing her and tossing her body aside like an unwanted rag doll. She felt a sharp searing pain as he ran his sword through her abdomen.

_Ow, shit that hurts_, she thought as the edges of her version blurred. Hawke closed her eyes and sent out a force of mental energy, blasting the Qunari leader squarely in the face. He gasped as he stumbled backwards dropping her unceremoniously onto the ground. Her whole body screamed in agony as it hit the tiled floor with a thud. Hawke scrambled for her staff and uttered a quick healing spell as she used stumbled back onto her feet. Then she smashed her staff into the ground, bringing a cage of invisible force crushing down on the hulking Qunari. The Arishok snarled at her as he tried to free himself from his ethereal prison. 

Hawke took a few shallow breaths and coughed. Her throat was bruised and scratchy. She clenched her jaw as she sent a jet of ice right to his abdomen. She watched as it spread rapidly throughout his body, freezing him in place. She crashed her staff to the ground again, causing a deep rumbling thunderous sound to fill the room. The Arishok was knocked clean off his feet as a wave of pure force crashed over him. His body smashed onto the floor. The sickening sound of ice cracking slowly followed after.

“One day, we will return,” the Arishok wheezed through shallow breaths as his body shattered into a million shards of ice.

Silence fell upon the room, its occupants collectively holding their breath for a few moments. Hawke gingerly drew her hand away from her abdomen, it was covered in blood. _Shit, he’s ruined my favourite pair of robes,_ she thought blithely as she looked up at her companions and gave them a grin.

Without warning, the Qunari marched out of the throne room. The nobles let out a loud cheer and began to crowd around her. Hawke looked around as her companions forced their way to the gaggle of people. She let out a loud sigh of relief.

“He should’ve just taken me up on that drink,” Aurelie remarked to Varric and Fenris as they reached her side, “It would have been easier. Come on, let’s go before — oh, crap!”

The doors crashed open as Orsino, Meredith and a contingent of mages and Templars ran into the room. They stopped abruptly as they surveyed the scene before them. Meredith glance at Hawke, her blue eyes piercing right through her.

“Is it over?” She asked in clipped tones.

“Yes,” Hawke replied as she shouldered her staff, “The Arishok is dead. You’re welcome by the way.”

Meredith frowned at her glibness and Aurelie fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Well, it looks like Kirkwall has a new Champion,” The Knight Commander announced.

_Oh fuck no!_

Aurelie forced a smile, trying to ignore Varric snickering behind her. 

“I—I don’t know what to say — thank you, I think,” she babbled as the room around her swayed, “If it’s okay, I’d like to go home now — or better yet, go to The Hanged Man if it’s still standing. I bet we could all do with a drink. Isabela’s buying.”

“Hey!” 

“Face it, Bela, you owe me. I saved your fine ass, you should be buying all my drinks from now on,” she smirked, “Who else is up for it?”

“I’m always up for a celebratory pint,” Varric chimed in, grinning at her, “Maybe we could play a few rounds of diamondback.”

“I should let Donnic know that I’m safe,” Aveline told her, frowning as Hawke waggled her eyebrows suggestively at her, “Though I suppose we could pop in later.”

“Excellent!” Hawke exclaimed as she clapped her hand on the Guard Captain’s shoulder, “It’s always good to see you loosen up. What say you, Fenris? Up for a night of free drinks and drunken debauchery? Bear in mind that I won’t take no as an answer.”

Fenris’ green eyes travelled down to Hawke’s left hand and he frowned.

“Don’t you think you should attend to your wound?” he asked her, his deep voice edged with concern.

Hawke waved her hand dismissively. 

“It’s just a flesh wound, I’ll be fine! So what do you say? Isabela will buy you the finest, most expensive wine that The Hanged Man has to offer.”

“I will bloody not!” Isabela interjected.

Fenris chuckled.

“Very well,” he said, “I will join you, Hawke.”

“Perfect!” Hawke beamed at him as she linked her arm with his, “Come on, let’s go get drunk!”

The four of them walked out of the Keep and Hawke managed to make it to the steps outside before her head began to spin. She clutched Fenris’ bicep trying to steady herself

“Actually, I think I might need to sit down,” she said, “I don’t feel so good.”

Fenris looked down at her, his eyes widening.

“Hawke —”

Aurelie couldn’t hear the rest of his words over the loud buzzing in her ears. She swayed as the world seemed to spin around her. Blackness clouded her vision like ink being poured into water. If she could just rest — just to keep the world still for a few minutes, she would be all right. Hawke blinked, the blackness was fully descending now. The urge to close her eyes for a few seconds became too great as the blackness swept over her. If she could just — if she could just…

...And then nothing.


	2. Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strange hands taking my wrist again  
Somehow I'm still alone  
Voices shaking my steps again  
I follow
> 
> I'm a little bit on the edge  
Holed up and out of reach  
I can't hear much of what you said to comfort me
> 
> Don't let me tumble away  
Into the throws of the shadowy bay  
I cling to the rock, and it's crumbling off  
Toss me a heavy rope, it's a slippery slope  
Come bail me out of this God forsaken precipice  
Come bail me out of this God forsaken precipice
> 
> **Heavy Rope-Lights**

_Hands. All Aurelie could feel were hands on her body. They were strange and alien. Who did they belong to? They were too warm to be her father’s, Hawke remembered the soothing coolness of Malcolm Hawke’s fingers brushing her forehead, checking for signs of illness. The person’s touch was too firm to belong to Bethany nor were their fingers calloused enough to be Fenris’ hands. The fingers pressed down onto her abdomen, causing searing hot pain to flare up and down her body. She screamed as her body contorted and twisted in agony. _

“Get off! Don’t touch me!” she yelled as she tried in vain to pull the hands away from her, “Where’s Bethany? I want Bethany!”

“Calm down Hawke, it’s me,” Anders’ voice told her, sounding tired, “Keep still. I’m trying to help!”

Hawke’s eyes opened, her vision was blurry. But Anders’ face swam into view as it focused. His face was framed by strands of blond hair and his forehead wrinkled slightly in concentration. She could hear Merrill’s lilting voice talking from somewhere in the room, but her words were unintelligible. Anders frowned as he placed a hand on her abdomen.

“I’m sorry Hawke, but this is going to hurt,” he told her, handing her a small wooden stick, “Here, bite down on this.”

“But — what happened?” her voice sounded shrill to her own ears, “Why?”

Anders stifled a frustrated groan.

“The Arishok’s blade was poisoned — it’s why your wound didn’t heal properly,” he explained, “So we need to purge it from you before we can re-heal your wound. Now, for the love of the Maker bite down on the wood.” 

It took Aurelie a few moments to comprehend his words. The last thing that she could remember was stepping outside the Keep and grabbing onto Fenris. She placed the small wooden stick between her teeth and bit down hard as Ander’s closed his eyes, the ethereal green light from his healing spell lighting up his face.

She screamed. 

Every vein in her body was on fire and her nerves burned bright hot as she twisted in torment. The room rang with the sound of her screams. From somewhere, she could hear the muffled sound of her mabari barking and scratching at her bedroom door. Stop. Just stop. That was all that she wanted. For the pain to stop. 

“Stay with me, Hawke,” Anders whispered as he opened his eyes and looked at her. His expression anxious, “I need you to stay awake.”

“But it hurts,” Aurelie sobbed, “Please just make it stop.”

She watched as the rebel apostate’s shoulders heaved and he looked over his shoulder. Merrill appeared next to him. Her green eyes were wide and she bit her lip as she looked down at Hawke.

“Here, drink this,” she said, pressing the lips of a potion bottle to Hawke’s mouth, “It will help.”

Aurelie gulped down some of the sludge brown liquid that the Dalish elf offered her and retched. It left an acrid taste in her mouth and burned its way down her throat. 

“Remind me to never let you cook for me,” she croaked, “Was there no way you could’ve made it taste like strawberries?”

“Oh, sorry Hawke,” Merrill babbled, whilst Anders let out an exasperated sigh, “I didn’t know you liked strawberries — maybe I should have —”

Hawke didn’t hear the rest of Merrill’s speech as the room began to spin. The kaleidoscope of colours all swirling and blurring into darkness. There was nothing. Just silence before a burst of radiant white. 

_The ache seemed to drain away from her body. She felt light as though she was made of air. All of her troubles and worries had somehow been washed away. An odd sort of numbness had taken over her body. Had she died? Was this death? Hawke felt as though her sense of self was about to dissolve into nothing. She squinted as a blurry humanoid shape came into view. Hawke’s eyes widened as her vision cleared._

_Bethany. Aurelie’s skin prickled as her younger sister stood in front of her, smiling sweetly. Her brown eyes were as warm and bright as she remembered. Her heart squeezed in her chest. This couldn’t be — was this real? Either way, it was confirming the death theory. She swallowed as she took a step towards her sibling._

_“Beth,” Hawke breathed, “I’ve missed you so much.”_

_Her sister remained silent, a serene smile lighting up her face. Guilt lanced through Hawke’s belly, piercing through the numbness that had been coddling her. Bethany. The sister she had failed to protect; the sister who deserved better than a hurried burial in an unmarked grave on the road to Highever. Yet another example of how badly she had neglected her own family._

_“I’m so sorry,” Aurelie sobbed, “Beth, I am so sorry for everything — for you, for mother —”_

_Bethany nodded and smiled wider. Somehow, everything seemed as though it was going to be okay. Aurelie Hawke’s failings had been forgiven and all her responsibilities had been taken away. A voice in the back of her head, the one that often doubted her, was telling her that she could rest now. That she had done enough. That all the pain and loneliness was at an end. Hawke took another cautious step forwards and then froze._

_Something was touching her. Another hand. Only this time there was something familiar about the rough, calloused fingers that entwined with her own. They were warm and thrumming with lyrium;gripping her firmly as though determined to drag her back to reality._

_Hawke balked. If this was death, then it seemed determined to send her on one hell of a guilt trip. She looked up at Bethany as tears began to well up in her eyes. There was a huge painful lump in her throat and she swallowed it down, repressing it as much as she could._

_“I’m sorry Beth,” she whispered, her voice cracking, “I-I can’t go with you. Carver needs me, you know how it is. The idiot would put his shoes on the wrong feet if there isn’t someone to supervise him at all times.”_

_Her heart throbbed painfully as she thought of the little brother she had condemned to a slow death as a Grey Warden. Did he still need her though? Now he had found a place where he belonged; where he could prove himself and step out of her shadow. _

_Of course, they needed each other. No matter what, they were family. Hawke bit her lip as she saw the resigned look on her little sister’s face. Surely Beth would understand? Aurelie sniffled and blinked back some tears. _

_“I’ll see you again, Beth,” she whispered before turning away and walking back into the dark abyss…_

Bright lights danced across her eyes. She squeezed the hand that was holding hers, wondering if it was Carver. If someone somehow had sent word to him and he had abandoned his mission with the Wardens to see him. She heard a muffled grunt as the person drew their hand away sharply. Aurelie blinked as she turned onto her side, her stomach dropped. Instead of seeing the bright blue eyes of her brother; she found herself staring into a pair of forest green ones. 

“Fenris?”

His name scratched her throat as she said it. Her heart skipped a beat, there was a light of excitement in his eyes that she had never seen before. She bit her lip. Of all people — of course, he would be the one who would be there.

“Kaffas, Aurelie,” he exclaimed, “_Venhedis, festis bei umo canavarum!_” 

Hawke smirked as she sat up. Her mabari jumped up onto the bed and lay next to her, wagging his stumpy tail. She scratched his ears absently. The warmth of his stocky body was comforting.

“Oh, hey Hawke! I’m glad you’re still alive. How are you feeling?”

“How can you — Hawke do not — what did you think you were doing?” Fenris pinched the top of his nose and exhaled, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean — how are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a stampede of angry brontos,” she replied, “But other than that, it is a pretty standard Tuesday.”

She saw a hint of a smile grace his face as he chuckled. She was glad that she was still the only one who could make him laugh albeit reluctantly. If she had her way she would make him laugh more often. She saw the scrap of red fabric that was still tied around his wrist. It was a reminder of the night they had shared together and her desperate plea to get him to stay. She would do anything to help him find peace. Even if it meant waiting until he was ready to be with her. Even if it meant that he would never be ready to be with her. 

She folded her arms tightly against her chest. Fenris was watching her carefully. He rubbed his mouth with his hand as she forced herself to smile at him. 

“Aurelie, is there anything you want me to do for you? Anything you need?” he asked, licking his lips.

_You_, she thought, _I just need you._ She swallowed her words down. She would rather choke on them than say them out loud and make this situation more awkwardly painful than it already was. Fenris gave her a searching look and she shrank back, making herself as small as possible.

“Hawke? Are you — do you want me to fetch Anders?”

She shook her head, “No, no, let him sleep. He needs it.”

Fenris’ body relaxed. She could tell by his expression that he was glad that she didn’t want to see Anders. Or anyone. Not yet. She winced as she reached for a glass of water on her bedside table, ignoring the ache in her muscles. She took a sip letting the water cool her burning throat. Fenris was watching her thoughtfully and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hawke, I have to tell you,” he said, running a hand through his silvery white hair, “Isabela, she’s —”

“ —Gone?” She offered, forcing a smile, “Damn it, now I will have to wait for that drink.”

Hawke her face behind a curtain of auburn hair. Another person gone. Another friend that couldn’t be convinced to stick around. To be honest, Aurelie couldn’t blame her. Isabela was slightly responsible for destroying half of Kirkwall, after all. It made sense for the pirate to leave at least until things had calmed down and her part in the whole affair was forgotten. She placed the glass back on the bed-side table. She could feel Fenris staring at her, seeing straight through her futile attempts at humor. She hated it. He was the only one who could see beyond her mask to the hurt and abandoned child that she truly was. Fenris reached for her hand and squeezed it.

“Hawke — Aurelie —”

“ —Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. I don’t need people feeling sorry for me.” she said. She met his gaze and saw nothing but sympathy in his eyes. It was unbearable. She gritted her teeth, determined not to cry. Not in front of him. Not again. She pulled her hand away

“Hawke, I don’t —”

“ —If you want to be useful, just leave me to get some sleep,” she told him, the words were acerbic on her tongue, “Anything would be better than some stupid pity party and I am so fucking tired.”

Fenris recoiled. A few beats of silence passed between them.

“As you wish,” he said as he raised himself from the armchair, looking sticken. Aurelie regretted everything she had just said. She thrust her arm out and brushed his forearm with her fingers. 

The elf paused.

“Look, Fenris, I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh, “I didn’t mean to snap at you — it’s just — it’s been a long day, that’s all.”

His eyes met hers, Aurelie gulped down an odd little lump of emotions that had formed in the back of her throat before it could choke._ Stay. Please stay,_ she thought, _don’t leave me, not again_. She blinked, refusing to crumble into the pathetic begging mess that her body was trying its hardest to turn her into. 

Don’t. Cry.

But it was hard not to. Not when the thrum of his lyrium tattoos under her fingertips reminded her of the night they had ruined everything; not when the loneliness and dejection in his eyes mirrored her own. He gave her a small sad smile.

“I understand. I will leave you to rest.”

Hawke nodded, and reluctantly pulled her hand away. Despondent, she watched as he left the room. She was alone. Utterly alone. Her mabari, Giacomo sat up on his haunches watching her plaintively. 

“At least I have you, boy,” she told him shakily.

The dog let out a quiet whine. Hawke let out a few shuddering breaths before she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his fur to stifle the sound of her sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I head-canon that Hawke would tear the bloody world apart for Carver. Leandra and Malcolm taught her that family is the most important thing and so, if anything was going to bring her back from a near death experience it would be that. Also as the eldest, it was always her job to look after her useless baby brother. (I get weirdly attached to Carver. I think it's because I have a brother of my own and it's the whole siblings having each other's back thing which I relate to.)
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading. Comments and constructive criticism give me life. :)


End file.
